


Collide

by madders



Series: Every Road Taken (Leads You Back To The Beginning) [4]
Category: Angel: the Series, S.W.A.T. (2003), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Clint Barton is Brian Gamble, Clint Barton is Penn, Clint Barton is Penn and just about every other character Jeremy Renner has played... no really, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:43:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/472036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madders/pseuds/madders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SHIELD is closing in on Penn, but Wolfram and Hart have their own plans for him...</p><p>Set during the film SWAT.</p><p>You will probably need to read the other parts in this series for it to make sense!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nick Fury sat in the back of the Quinjet, looking through the file SHIELD had compiled on Brian Gamble. He looked up at Phil Coulson, who was waiting patiently for him to finish.

“This is it?” he asked, looking down at the very thin file; as if staring at it would make more information suddenly appear.

“That sir; is everything we have on one Brian Gamble,” Coulson confirmed.

“He popped up out of nowhere, fully formed and joined the LA police department, just like that? Their security screening sucks,” he said bluntly.

“Actually, their screening is pretty thorough,” Coulson replied. “Everything they looked into checked out. On paper, Brian Gamble is exactly who he says he is. He has school records, his employment history checked out; he had a full credit history… there is nothing that raises a single red flag here.”

“But it’s all fake,” Fury growled.

“Yes, it is,” Coulson agreed. “To any normal employer, everything would check out fine.” He didn’t need to tell the Director that SHIELD was not a normal employer.

“So if Brian Gamble isn’t his real name, what is?” Fury asked.

Coulson pulled another, much thicker file out.

“That, is very complicated, Sir.”

Fury sighed. “Of course it is. Give me the highlights.”

Coulson nodded. “Back in 1999, there was a search for a serial killer in LA, who bears an uncanny resemblance to our Mr Gamble,” he began handing over a police sketch from the file.

“We got hold of the reports at the time, and the investigating officer, a Detective Lockley, reported that she was involved in an altercation with the suspect, who was unfortunately immolated.”

“Immolated?”

“Apparently,” Coulson replied sardonically.

“We went earlier, trying to find any sign of him prior to his arrival in LA. We tapped into every source we had- both conventional and unconventional, and eventually we got a name. Penn.”

“Just Penn?”

“So it seems,” Coulson confirmed. “But you see, that in itself is interesting, because our Mr Penn seems to have a long history. A very long history.”

“How long?”

“We’ve tracked it back to at least the 18th Century,” Coulson confirmed.

“So, demon?”

“Vampire,” Coulson nodded.

“So he was dusted,” Fury nodded his understanding. “So how the hell did he come back from that?” he asked. “There’s no way he’s still a vampire- otherwise, shouldn’t he flambé in sunlight? And how on earth did he end up working for SWAT of all things?”

“Unknown Sir,” Coulson replied. “We’re still looking into it. The only way we will probably know is to ask him.”

“Think he’d actually tell us?” Fury snorted. “He’s probably not feeling the love towards any authority figures right now.”

“Probably not sir,” Coulson replied. “And there’s also a good chance that he’ll vanish and take on a new identity- he has a long history of doing just that,” Coulson relayed, pulling out another piece of paper and handing it to Fury. On it was nothing else except a long list of names. 

“They’re still compiling data, but just from what we’ve got in the initial scan, he has burned through dozens of identities, discarding them at will, and then popping up somewhere else- sometimes literally half a world away, as a completely new person. It’s only the photo recognition software we’re running that got us started- and that only covers the last half a century or so, since photo IDs became common. I’d be willing to bet that for every identity we’ve found, there’s three or four more that we’ve missed, not counting those from the 150 years before that. With recent events, I think it’s safe to say that there’s not a great chance of him keeping the Brian Gamble identity much longer.”

“Agreed,” Fury replied. “So, we’d better find this guy, and fast.”

“And what are we going to do when we do find him sir?” Coulson inquired.

Fury stood, turning to look out of the windows at the sky rushing past.

“I guess we’ll have to see,” he replied. “Have them keep digging,” he ordered. “I want to know everything we can before we cross paths.”


	2. Chapter 2

Brian Gamble hung up the phone and sighed in frustration. Since Lindsey’s house call, things had moved incredibly fast. Lindsey had insisted that he relocate to one of their safe houses in order to coordinate the plan, arguing that it would be simpler as it gave him full access to all of Wolfram and Hart’s contacts. Of course, it neatly kept him under their full control too.

The plan wasn’t going to be easy, but his desire to take retribution on LA SWAT was a pretty good motivator, and there was no better way than to free Montel from right under their noses- and under the gaze of the press.

But he knew that no matter what his personal motivations, he didn’t actually have a choice, he had to do this if he wanted to live himself. Lindsey wasn’t kidding when he said the Senior Partners would make his life a living hell- they had access to plenty of hell dimensions that would ensure that.

He was trapped, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Lindsey came into the room, interrupting his musings. 

“How’s it going?” he asked. 

“This is not gonna be easy,” Brian replied.

“Never said it would be son,” Lindsey smirked. “Otherwise we wouldn’t need you to do it.”

Gamble took a sip of coffee and didn’t reply.

“So, you got everything you need?” he asked.

“Pretty much,” Brian answered. “Just waiting on the last few pieces to fall into place.”

“Well you let me know if anyone’s being uncooperative, and we’ll make sure it is corrected.”

Brian shook his head with a wry grin. “I know you can be very persuasive,” he agreed. “But to be honest, most people see a cut of the $100 million as incentive enough. I still wish you’d let me choose my team for the job itself though,” he argued.

“That’s non-negotiable,” Lindsey replied firmly.

“I don’t like it,” Gamble argued, even though he knew it was a losing argument. “I don’t know these guys, so how can I trust them to have my back?”

“They’ll have you covered.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Gamble replied. “I don’t want one of them to get an itchy trigger finger and shoot me.”

“Get Montel on that plane and they won’t have reason to,” Lindsey smirked.

The phone rung, cutting them off, and Lindsey gestured for him to get it, backing out of the room. “Let me know when you’re ready and we’ll get you kitted up.”


	3. Chapter 3

Coulson knocked on Fury’s door in SHIELD’s LA field office, waiting for permission to enter. Fury’s voice came through immediately, and he opened the door, closing it firmly behind him.

“What have you got?” Fury asked.

“We’ve got a lead on Gamble sir,” he replied.

Fury hadn’t been happy when they’d landed in LA to find that the team sent to Gamble’s apartment had found it still full of Gamble’s things, but no sign of the man himself.

“We ran the security camera footage from the areas around Gamble’s apartment for the past few days, and we caught sight of Gamble leaving his apartment with this man,” Coulson continued, dropping a photo on the desk of the two of them exiting the apartment building.

“His name is Lindsey McDonald, and he’s a lawyer with Wolfram and Hart.”

Fury picked up the photo and looked at it. “Is he a known associate?” he asked.

“Not at all, sir,” Coulson replied. “That’s what makes it interesting.”

“Explain,” Fury demanded.

“There appears to be no link between Penn and Wolfram and Hart. However, they do share another common associate. Wolfram and Hart’s LA office seems to have had rather a lot of friction with another vampire- Angelus.”

“Angelus?” Fury echoed. “Where do I know that name?” he asked.

“From Penn’s file, sir,” Coulson reminded him. “Angelus was Penn’s sire.”

“So you think this Angelus plays into all this somehow?” Fury asked.

“We’re working that angle to see what comes up, but there were whispers of Angelus’ sire paying him a visit fairly recently. Which wouldn’t be any particular cause for note, except that Darla was dusted several years ago,” Coulson informed him.

“A second vampire rising from the ashes,” Fury nodded. “You think they resurrected both this Darla and Penn?”

“It would make sense sir,” Coulson nodded.

“And do we know where he is?” Fury asked.

“There has been no sighting of him since that image,” Coulson admitted. “Our guess is that Wolfram and Hart have him squirreled away somewhere,” he shook his head, but continued before Fury could comment. “The LA Field Office have a contact within Wolfram and Hart who is doing some discrete digging for us, we’re just waiting to hear back.”

“I don’t like this Phil,” Fury confided.

“Me either sir,” Coulson agreed.

ooOOoo

The following afternoon, Coulson found himself waiting in an abandoned warehouse for their contact to arrive. Despite knowing that he had a full team hidden away to protect him, he couldn’t help but feel exposed.

His comm chirped and a voice let him know that someone was approaching, and he straightened his jacket, making sure his sidearm wasn’t visible in its shoulder holster.

Moments later, the door squeaked open, and a woman in a designer suit and towering heels appeared, looking incredibly out of place in the derelict surroundings.

“You’re the contact?” she asked, sounding slightly surprised.

“You have information for me,” he replied, not wasting time.

“I do,” she replied, taking a folder from her purse and handing it over. “Everything I could find is in there.”

“Thank you,” Coulson replied. She nodded, before turning and leaving as quickly as she had arrived.

Moments later his comm chirped again, the same voice as before letting him know that the area was clear, and he sighed, opening the folder and starting to read the first page as he headed for the back door. He got about three paragraphs in and missed a step in shock, before recovering quickly and increasing his pace.

Getting back into the SUV hidden behind the next building, he spoke to the driver. “Get me back to the office immediately,” he ordered, picking up his phone and making a call, still reading through the file.

He was back within 20 minutes, and headed straight up to Fury’s office.

“Director, you’re going to want to see this,” he said, dropping the file on his desk.

Fury stopped what he was doing and picked it up, starting to read the contents. “Damn,” Fury swore, sounding somewhat awed by what he was reading. Coulson hid a smile; it took a lot to impress his boss like that.

“It seems Wolfram and Hart had a lot more information than we did,” Coulson admitted. “And Penn certainly has some skills.”

“You can say that again,” Fury replied, still reading through 200 years of exploits. “And he was ruthless as hell,” he added.

“Seems to be a side effect of being soulless demon,” Coulson shrugged. 

“Do we know why they resurrected him?” Fury asked.

“Page six,” Coulson replied, and Fury turned to that page.

“What the fuck?” he said, eyes darting up to Coulson when he about halfway down the page.

“Pretty much my response, sir,” Coulson agreed. “And it gets better.”

Fury continued to scan the contents, his incredulity growing as he did.

“Jesus,” he spat. “These lawyers are fucking lunatics.”

“They’re certainly something,” Coulson confirmed. “Penn did a great job slipping their leash, but now they’ve got him again, I don’t think they’re going to let him go easily.” 

“Do we know where they are keeping him?” Fury asked.

“Yes sir,” Coulson confirmed. “But he’s heavily guarded.”

“Do we know what their timescale is for whatever they’re cooking up?”

“Their objective is unknown sir,” Coulson replied. “But whatever it is, I’d say it will be happening soon.”

“What’s your assessment, Phil?” Fury asked.

“He could be a valuable asset if we can bring him in. We know his skill with weapons is second to none, but he’s not just a good sniper- he’s a chameleon who can blend in wherever he goes. But we won’t be able to just walk up and take him.”

“Stark finished developing those Life Model Decoy things he was crowing about?” Fury asked.

“I’ve got one on its way, sir,” Coulson smiled, having correctly predicted his boss’ train of thought. “And we’ve accessed the local network of traffic cameras, so if they move, we’ll know it.”

“How long until we’re ready?” Fury asked.

“Twenty four hours, maybe less,” Coulson confirmed. “Depends on how quickly we can get that LMD ready.”

Fury sat back in his chair. “I want this guy Phil. Make it happen.”


	4. Chapter 4

Gamble set himself up in the back of the van, lining up his shot to the police helicopter coming in for landing on top of the roof in the distance. He felt a twinge of guilt for the men he was about to kill, but squashed it ruthlessly before it had time to take root.

Two bullets later, and the ‘copter was down, and it was time for the next phase of the plan to swing into action. If things went to plan, in just a few hours he’d be on his way out of the country, and as soon as they landed, he fully planned to make his escape. Wolfram and Hart may have told him that he was free to do as he pleased once this was finished with, but he didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them.

Leaving the gun where it was, he jumped out of the van and slammed the doors shut, and it was driven away immediately. He ran down two levels and jumped in the waiting SUV; and it headed straight out of the parking garage and onto the streets.

His phone rang, and he pulled it out and looked at the display with a frown before answering it.

“I’m a little busy,” he told the person on the other end.

“Now son,” Lindsey’s voice drawled down the line. “Just wanted to call and tell you that was some damn fine shooting. You just won me a hundred bucks. Our head of security bet me you’d never be able to make that shot.”

Brian couldn’t stop the laugh at that. “You should make him pay you double. I hit that ‘copter twice. Once on each engine,” he boasted.

Lindsey laughed before becoming serious again. “Now just follow through with the rest of the plan,” he responded.

“Don’t worry McDonald,” Gamble replied. “It’s all in hand.”

ooOOoo

Across town, Coulson slammed into Fury’s office. “Sir, you’re going to want to see this,” he told him urgently, switching on the TV and turning it to the news channel showing the footage of the burning remains of the helicopter.

“Fuck!” Fury swore, reading the strapline running across the bottom of the screen.

“The surveillance team lost Gamble an hour ago,” Coulson told Fury, who slammed his hand down on the desk in anger.

“Find him and take him down,” Fury told Coulson. 

“Lethal force?” he questioned.

“If necessary,” Fury nodded. “Phil, I don’t have to tell you…” he trailed off. 

Coulson nodded, not needing Fury to finish. He was one of the few people who knew that Fury had a brother, let alone a twin who was in charge of LA’s best SWAT team, and therefore directly in the line of fire on this.

“Are you going to warn him?” he asked.

“I can’t Phil,” Fury growled in frustration. “Not without breaking into their general comms, and then everyone will hear it,” he said. 

“Don’t worry sir,” Coulson replied firmly. “I’ll take care of it.”

They shared a look and Fury nodded. Coulson left the room, the door closing behind him, leaving his boss staring at the footage playing over the TV.


	5. Chapter 5

Gamble swore as the plane slid to a halt, the pilots dead and the wreckage on fire. He looked out to see Street and the rest of his team, and he swore again. He’d been so close to freedom. This was his worst nightmare- there was no way Montel was getting away now, and Wolfram and Hart would be after his head for failing.

That’s if Street and his team didn’t kill him first. He glanced at Travis, Lindsey’s pet mercenary - or if Travis took him down sooner.

Either way, he was fucked unless he could escape.

Grabbing the hostage, he pulled her from the plane, leaving TJ cowering inside. He kept her between Street and his team, but was forced to leave his flank exposed to Travis and Montel; he just had to hope that they’d be kept too busy by the rest of the SWAT team to worry about him.

Pulling the woman over to the side of the bridge, he kept his eyes on Street and Hondo, who were both aiming at him. He just needed a distraction, and then could make his escape. If he was able to get away cleanly from this clusterfuck, he could make for one of the bolt holes he had set up, and then he’d just have to pray that he could keep moving quickly enough to stay one step ahead of whomever Wolfram and Hart sent after him.

Just as he was beginning to think that his only option for distraction was to shoot one of them in the head, Travis got a lucky hit on Sanchez and she went down hard. Hondo and Street looked away as Deke called out her name, and he had his chance. Within seconds he was over the side of the bridge and securing the line. He grabbed hold of it and pushed off, sliding rapidly down to the train tracks below.

About half way down he felt something hit him in the neck, in between his ear and the band of his throat mike. He slapped a hand up to the spot, and pulled out a dart. He didn’t have a chance to do anything more as his feet hit the ground and he crumpled into a heap, limbs as heavy as lead. He fought in vain against the tranq round, distantly wondering if this was a new type of sedative, they didn’t usually cause hallucinations, and yet the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was his own body striding towards him.

ooOOoo

Coulson lowered the tranq gun and gestured for his team to move. They silently exited the boxcar they were positioned in and ran over to the now unconscious man. They picked him up carefully, quickly restraining him and removing any sign of their presence before carrying him back over to Coulson’s position.

Meanwhile the LMD walked straight past its double, and headed over to the next train, climbing aboard and disappearing into the shadows to wait.

The team quickly and efficiently lifted Gamble’s unconscious form inside, the last man climbing in and pulling the door closed, just before Street rappelled down Gamble’s discarded line.

“Get this train moving,” Coulson ordered, and within moments they were in motion, leaving the LMD and Street behind them.

Keeping half an eye on the covert surveillance feed from Sitwell’s team, who was tasked with completing the second part of the operation, he saw the LMD engage Street, whilst in the boxcar, his team stripped the real Gamble of his weapons and communications equipment. Once they were happy he was secure, the team medic moved in, checking the unconscious man’s vitals and looking for any injuries. 

“All enemy combatants down. The suspect has been recaptured by SWAT,” Sitwell reported over the comm a few minutes later.

“Acknowledged,” Coulson replied. “SWAT team status?” he asked.

“All on the bridge accounted for. One still engaged on the railway lines with the LMD,” came the reply.

“Confirmed. Commence stage two,” Coulson ordered.

“Acknowledged. Stage two is a go.”

On the surveillance feed, Coulson watched as Street gained the upper hand and beat the LMD on the ground, and its head landed on the track under the wheels of the other train, decapitating it instantly. Street fell backwards and sat on his haunches, staring at the body.

“Stage two complete, second team move in,” Sitwell ordered.

Coulson continued to watch as two of the second team, who were dressed as paramedics, moved in and efficiently pulled Street away from the scene, whilst another two moved over to the LMD before Street got close enough to see it wasn’t really his ex-partner’s body.

Satisfied everything was under control, Coulson switched the channel on his comm. “Sir,” he said; his voice calm and confident. “Operation successful.”

He knew Fury would have been monitoring all of the communications from the base, but he still heard Fury let out a sigh of relief before he responded. “Good work, bring him in.”

“Yes sir,” Coulson acknowledged immediately.

He’d had to cook this plan up on the fly, and the odds of it being a success had been astronomical, but Fury relied on him to pull this kind of miracle off, and he'd repaid that faith once more. 

Getting everything in the right place at the right time had been a nightmare, as he didn't know his opponents plans and could only react to the information he had as it came in, but despite everything, Fury's brother was safe, and no one was any the wiser that they had even been there, and he now had Fury’s potential asset in SHIELD’s custody.

And to top it all off, no one would be looking for him. 

Because as far as Wolfram and Hart and the LA Police department were concerned…

…Brian Gamble was dead.


	6. Chapter 6

Brian Gamble’s first thought upon regaining consciousness was that he was surprised that he was still alive. He hadn’t expected to be, or at least, he’d certainly thought that he would be in a helluva lot more pain.

He was sitting on an uncomfortable metal chair, his arms pulled back and cuffed behind him, but that was it. All in all, not the most unpleasant circumstance he had ever experienced. He stayed motionless, feigning unconsciousness as he tried to work out exactly who had him before deciding on his next move. 

He wasn’t being held by the cops, but it didn’t feel much like Wolfram and Hart’s style either. There was no sound in the room other than his own breathing, so all he could do was wait.

The door opened about an hour later, and he continued to play possum as he listened to a single person entering the room, closing the door behind them. Even with his eyes still shut he could tell enough to know that it was a man.

His visitor was making no attempt to hide his presence as he pulled out a chair and sat down; setting what sounded like paper on the table that he now knew was between them. The deadened echoes suggested the room was bare rather than a cosy lawyer’s office, but he just wasn’t sure yet.

“You’re an interesting man,” the visitor spoke, voice cool and calm.

Having nothing more to gain from pretending otherwise, Gamble stopped his charade and straightened up in the chair, sharp eyes fixing immediately on the speaker, taking in his cool blue eyes and nondescript black suit.

“Ordinary is boring,” he replied, wincing at the dryness of his throat. “You’re not from Wolfram and Hart,” he stated, now sure of this, but still no closer to finding out where he was.

“No, I’m not,” the suit agreed, but didn’t elaborate any further. 

Instead he stood and stepped around the table, disappearing out of view for a moment. He put a hand on his shoulder to steady him as he reached down and released the handcuffs.

Gamble brought his hands around in front of him, rubbing away the ache in his wrists as the man reappeared at his side, setting a bottle of water down in front of him before retaking his seat, opening the folder to read silently through the contents.

He straightened up a little more, sharp gaze seeing beyond the bland and unimposing exterior this man wore like a cloak to see what lay beneath.

“You’re not so ordinary yourself,” he stated finally, picking up the water and cracking the seal before taking a few deep gulps.

“What makes you say that?” the suit asked, looking up from the file before folding his hands on top, his expression showing that he was genuinely interested in the response.

Gamble weighed his options for a moment before deciding he had nothing to lose.

“You look like just another suit, but you’re not,” he began. “You’re confident in yourself and your abilities, although you hide it well behind your mild mannerisms; but I bet you can be just as deadly as I am, if not more so; because people don’t see you as a threat. You tread almost silently; and you don’t hold yourself like a civilian; my guess is you were Special Forces. And,” he paused as he lifted his unrestrained hands up between them. 

“You took the cuffs off. If that file tells you anything about me, you have some idea of what I can do. The last thing any normal person would want is to be alone in a room with me unrestrained. I could snap your neck before you had a chance to blink. I may or may not be able to get out of this room before whoever is watching this through the one way mirror behind me took me down, but either way, you’d still be dead.”

“That’s a lot to surmise about me in the few minutes since we’ve met,” the man responded blandly, not even raising an eyebrow at the fact that Gamble knew there was a mirror behind him, even when he couldn’t possibly have seen it.

“I’ve got very good eyesight,” he smirked. “You gonna tell me I’m wrong? Besides, we haven’t been officially introduced yet,” he added.

“No, we haven’t, have we,” the suit agreed. “I forgot that you come from a time when everything was very formal and proper,” he added, and Gamble had to fight to keep his expression from betraying his own surprise. 

This guy may not be from Wolfram and Hart, but he still knew too damn much about him.

“So,” he began, leaning back in his chair and stretching, keeping his posture nonthreatening- at least for now. “Are you going to tell me your name, or shall I make one up?” he asked, before he grinned. “How about I call you sweetheart?”

The suit raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t otherwise react. He was a tough one for sure. 

“Yes, you are rather good at making up names, aren’t you?” he said. “But then you’ve had a lot of practice,” he looked up at Gamble, his blue gaze still calm. “How about you call me sir?” he suggested.

“I don’t think so,” Gamble bit out, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You’d have to earn that.”

To his surprise, the man simply inclined his head to show he accepted the response before speaking again. “In that case, you can call me Agent Coulson.”

Gamble readjusted both his view of the man and what his motives may be upon hearing the title of ‘Agent,’ but he knew this man wasn’t regular CIA or FBI. 

“The question is,” the man continued quietly, “just what am I supposed to call you?”

They stared at each other for an endless moment before Gamble answered. 

“You think that with all your research that you something about me- who I once was, who I've been since, but the truth is that I am both everything and nothing that it says I am,” he replied.

Coulson looked at him, gesturing at the file. “All this gives me are names and dates from your past. But I was never one for history lessons, and I don’t believe that our past is the only thing that defines us. It’s what you choose to do with the present that is the important part,” he paused, relaxing back in his seat.

“Do you want to know what your present says about you?” he asked.

Gamble raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I think that no matter who or what you were; instead of repeating the cycle of your past, you chose another path, one that was undoubtedly more dangerous and difficult to follow,” he pulled out what Gamble recognized as his personnel record from SWAT.

“I also know that you are the best at what you do, and yet your talents were wasted. You made a tough call, and it was the right one. The police brass just couldn’t be seen to admit that when they started taking heat for it.”

“Fucking lawyers,” Gamble spat, unable to hold it back, and Coulson nodded.

“Yes, Wolfram and Hart do seem to be the root cause of many of your recent problems, and yet despite their knowledge of you, they didn’t understand that you don’t appreciate being treated like a puppet, and respond even less favorably to threats.”

“Maybe so,” Gamble replied. “What does it matter to you? You making me a sales pitch or something?” he asked.

“Perhaps I am,” Coulson responded. “Maybe everything that molded you into who you are now; makes you exactly the type of person we’re looking for.”

“And who’s we?” Gamble asked. “You’re not CIA or FBI, I know that, and regardless of your intentions, the LA police department will still want me strung up for what I’ve done, and I doubt even you can stop Wolfram and Hart just taking me, and I’m sure that they have all manner of creatively painful things planned to show me just how displeased they are with my failure,” he added.

“I can’t say I’ve had any dealings with them, but I have heard enough to know that you are correct,” Coulson agreed. “However, as far as all interested parties are concerned, Brian Gamble is dead following an unfortunate interaction between your head and a moving railway boxcar.”

“What?” Gamble asked, confused. “How are you going to convince anyone of that?”

“We don’t have to convince anyone of anything,” Coulson let out a cold smile, pulling out a few sheets of paper from the back of the file, and laying them down one by one. “There is the sworn statement from Jim Street, who you were involved in an altercation with immediately prior to your demise. And then, of course, there is the autopsy report, not to mention the body,” he finished, setting down the final sheet of paper, which was a photograph of a body- his body, on an autopsy slab.

“Who are you people?” Gamble finally asked, incredulous.

“We are the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division,” Coulson replied. 

“And we’d like for you to come and work for us.”


	7. Chapter 7

Gamble looked at Coulson for a long moment before answering. “That’s a very long name,” he replied with a frown. “And I’ve never heard of it.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Coulson told him. “We work well off of the radar, and we deal with things that the regular agencies are unwilling or unable to deal with.”

“And you want me?” Gamble snorted.

“Why is that so unbelievable?” Coulson asked, raising his eyebrows. “You are the best sniper we’ve ever seen; and if I take anything from your rather colorful past, it’s that you have a gift for blending in with your surroundings, which is just what we need for covert ops. And you’ve proved that you’re willing to make the tough calls.”

“You mean I can make it look like I belong and not stand out, walk right up to someone, kill them, and not cry about the morality of it all,” he replied, his voice short.

“Yes,” Coulson answered, surprising Gamble with the pure honesty.

“You came to our attention before your more recent exploits. We arrived about four hours after Wolfram and Hart had spirited you away, and we took the time, risk and expense of faking your demise, when we could have decided that you weren’t worth that much trouble. We think you’re worth taking a chance on. The question is… are you willing to take that chance on yourself?”

“Do I have a choice here?” Gamble asked. “I mean, you’re not about to let me walk out of that door if I say no now, are you?”

“Actually, I will,” Coulson replied.

“What?!”

“I already told you that we want you for your skills, and the only way we’d be able to make use of them is to have a measure of trust. If we tried to hold you against your will, you’d slip away the first chance you got, just like you did with Wolfram and Hart,” Coulson continued. “We will not force you to accept,” he repeated seriously.

“What makes you so sure that I will agree then?” Gamble asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Because deep down inside, you just want to do the right thing; to make a difference. And this? This is your best chance.”

After a few moments of silence, Coulson pushed his chair back and stood; the sound loud in the quiet room.

“You don’t have to decide now,” he told Gamble, reaching in his suit jacket pocket and pulling out a wallet. He withdrew a few hundred dollars in cash and a business card, before tucking the wallet away again. He set the money down on the table, but kept hold of the card.

“This should be enough to get you on your way. Although I’m sure you’ve got access to more funds close by,” he told him. “At the very least it will buy you a motel room for the night, although I suggest you don’t linger too long in LA, just in case.” 

Gamble picked up the money and nodded. “And this,” Coulson added, holding out the card. “Is for when you decide to join us.”

Gamble took it, fingers rubbing over the black Eagle and Shield logo, eyes skimming over the phone number, which was the only other thing printed on it.

“Just call that number and we’ll find you,” Coulson finished, stepping over to the door and opening it.

“Don’t you mean if?” Gamble retorted.

“No,” Coulson responded. “I’ll be seeing you,” he added, his lips quirking up for a second. Then, with a final nod, he was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

He sat there for a minute before shaking his head when no one reappeared. He then stood and looked around the room, smiling when he found the large one way mirror dominating the wall behind him. Beneath that was a table, and sitting on it was a backpack. 

Inspecting it, he found it filled with a change of clothes of his size, and an empty wallet. He looked down at his fatigue pants and shrugged. He made quick work of his boots, before swapping the fatigues and black t-shirt he had been wearing for far too long now, for the jeans and blue t-shirt in the bag, and then pulling the boots back on. He then shoved his dirty clothes back in the bag and zipped it back up.

He put the cash and business card into the wallet, tucking it into his back pocket and shouldering the backpack before finally crossing to the door, not surprised when he found it was unlocked and the corridor it revealed was empty. A helpful sign above one of the doors proclaimed it to be a fire exit, and within a matter of minutes he had shimmed down a fire escape before vanishing into the depths of the city.

ooOOoo

Back inside the building, Coulson stepped up beside Fury in the observation room.

“I hope you know what you’re doing Phil,” Fury warned.

“He’ll come in,” Coulson replied, his voice full of certainty.

“And if he doesn’t, we’ve just released one of the most efficient and prolific killers in history onto the streets; complete with a blank slate.”

“He’ll come in,” Coulson repeated.

“We’ll see,” Fury responded. “Now let’s get the hell back to New York.”

“Yes sir,” Phil agreed; turning and leaving Fury so that he could make the arrangements.


	9. Chapter 9

Two weeks later, Agent Phil Coulson strode down the corridor to his office in SHIELD’s New York HQ, a thermos mug of coffee in one hand. It was early in the morning, so it was no surprise that he didn’t pass anyone in the corridors. Reaching his office, he grabbed the door handle, waiting a moment for the biometric scanners to recognize him before a soft click alerted him that the door was unlocked.

Opening the door, he stepped inside, and in a split second drew his arm back to toss the thermos across the room at the figure sitting behind his desk as he spun away and reached under his jacket for his gun.

Bringing his aim to bear on the figure, he paused as he took in the man that had neatly caught the thermos before it could hit him, with only a few drops of the precious black liquid having been lost.

He blinked as the figure of Brian Gamble grinned back at him.

“Now that’s a nice welcome,” he said, calmly taking a sip from the thermos. “If I’d known you were going to fetch coffee, I would have brought a Danish or something.”

“How in the hell did you get in here?” Coulson swore, still not letting his aim falter.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” came the reply, he stood up and gestured for Coulson to take his seat. “Didya miss me?”

“We were wondering where you’d got to,” Coulson replied, lowering his gun and gesturing with it for the man to take the seat opposite him.

“Yeah, thought so,” Gamble replied with a laugh. “You need to learn to hide tracking devices better, and your covert surveillance teams aren’t very… well, covert. Nor are they good at tracking.”

“They were making sure Wolfram and Hart hadn’t seen through the ruse,” Coulson argued.

“Yeah, I’m sure that was part of their orders,” Gamble grinned again. “Along with making sure I didn’t go psycho and start a killing spree or something,” Gamble waved his hand. “Whatever, I’m not here to argue semantics with you.”

“What are you doing here? You were supposed to call,” Coulson reminded him.

“Yeah well,” Gamble shrugged. “Not a fan of just waiting around,” his face twisted with what was obviously a dark memory.

“So, you somehow found out where our HQ was, slipped our tail, made your way to New York, and infiltrated one of the most secure buildings in the world, just because you don’t like to wait?” Coulson asked, incredulous.

“Pretty much,” Gamble replied. “Plus I wanted to see what I was getting into. You didn’t think I’d really just accept your offer without having as much information about you as I could?”

“To be honest, I don’t know exactly what to think,” Coulson answered. “The Director is going to hit the ceiling when he finds out about this,” he added.

“Fury will love me for highlighting the holes in your security, especially when I then show him how to plug them,” Gamble replied.

Coulson didn’t blink at the fact that Gamble had uncovered enough about SHIELD to know the director’s name.

“Plus,” Gamble added. “I just aced one hell of a job interview.”

“How do you figure that one?” 

“Because, these talents are exactly what SHIELD wants me for. And now you’ve seen them in action, you know I’m not just all talk,” Gamble pointed out.

“If you say so,” Coulson replied, biting back the irritation that was building. Gamble was arrogant, but damn him if he wasn’t right.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Gamble spoke suddenly, patting down his pockets as he obviously looked for something. Coulson’s hand twitched towards his gun, but Gamble just rolled his eyes at him before letting out a sharp “Ah ha!” as he found what he had been looking for.

Pulling out a bunch of rolled up papers from his back pocket, he offered them to Coulson.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking them and then pulling the elastic band off to unroll them, absently trying to flatten them a little.

“Everything you need to set me up as a member of SHIELD,” Gamble replied.

Looking down at the papers, Coulson nodded absently. “I should have known that you’d already have a new identity in place.”

“As you mentioned,” Gamble laughed. “I have done this once or twice before.”

He turned serious, all trace of humor leaving his face. “I’ll join your merry band on one condition,” he held up a hand to forestall Coulson’s objection before continuing. “Penn the Vampire, Brian Gamble and all the other aliases you had on your list are dead and buried, and I want them to stay that way. Only you and Fury know about the connection between me and them, and I want to keep it that way.”

“I’ll have to discuss it with the director,” Coulson replied. “But I don’t think that it’s anything he won’t be amenable to,” he finished, looking down at the paperwork again.

Gamble blew out a breath, relaxing in his seat.

Coulson nodded, knowing that he’d read the man in front of him correctly back in LA. His lips quirked up into a smile as he looked forward to pointing that little fact out to Fury, and reminding his boss and old friend that he now owed him twenty bucks.

“If that’s all, then I guess there’s only one thing left to say,” Coulson finished, as the man in front of him raised an eyebrow in question.

“Welcome to SHIELD, Agent Barton.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the last chapter of this part of my series- I hope you've all enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
> 
> And thank you all so much for the comments and the kudos!
> 
> Penn has transformed himself into Clint Barton... but this is only the beginning of his adventures...


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